Chapter 3

Adrian's late-night visit left Ivy with a dangerous kind of confidence.

She didn't ask why he had shown up at her door with blood still drying on his temple. She didn't need to. Anyone with eyes could see he had been fighting with Mira.

Ivy had no intention of being a peacemaker.

Instead, she played the role she knew best: the wounded bird.

"Oh, Adrian, you're hurt—let me help you." Soft hands. Softer voice. She dabbed at his wound with antiseptic, her fingers lingering just a heartbeat too long.

He didn't pull away.

When Adrian left, he forgot something behind.

A bracelet. Silver and sapphire, glinting under her bedside lamp. Ivy recognized the craftsmanship immediately—the kind of piece that cost more than most pack members made in a year. Her pulse quickened.

"Adrian, this is beautiful," she said when he returned to retrieve it. Her voice dripped with warmth. "Thank you. You shouldn't have."

Adrian hesitated. His mouth opened—then closed. And he said nothing.

Ivy smiled. That silence was all the confirmation she needed.

The photo went up on the pack's community forum before dawn.

"A little midnight gift from someone special 💙"

The bracelet gleamed against her bare wrist, artfully posed beside a glass of wine and a half-burned candle. Romantic lighting. Intimate framing. The kind of post designed to make people wonder.

Then Ivy logged into her three alt accounts.

@MoonWhisper23: "Wait, is that from Alpha Adrian?? 👀"

@SilverFang_Girl: "Omg imagine having an Alpha who buys you jewelry in the middle of the night… some of us could never 🥺"

@LunaDreams9: "Honestly Ivy would make such a better Luna. Just saying what everyone's thinking."

She watched the comments pile up. First a trickle, then a flood. People were talking. Speculating. And Ivy let them.

Let them believe Adrian was already looking for a replacement.

Let them imagine her in Mira's place.

Let them pave the road for her before she even had to ask.

The next morning, Ivy arrived at the company headquarters an hour late.

She didn't bother with an excuse. No one ever asked. Adrian had made sure of that. Her position as his personal assistant came with a golden shield—she could wander in whenever she pleased, wearing whatever she wanted, doing the bare minimum, and still collect praises like flowers at her feet.

But today, she had come prepared.

Her makeup was flawless. Soft pink lips. Smoky eyes. The kind of face that said innocent while promising danger. She wore a cream-colored dress that hugged her waist and flared at the knees—elegant, modest, just expensive enough to be noticed.

And she carried a tray of coffee.

Eight cups. From a mid-range shop. Nothing special, but presentable.

The lobby was buzzing when she walked in. She plastered on her sweetest smile and approached the front desk.

"Good morning, everyone! I thought I'd brighten up your day—"

Janet from accounting barely glanced at the tray. "Oh. You brought coffee."

"I did!" Ivy beamed. "I know I've been a little… distant lately. Busy with Alpha Adrian's schedule. But I wanted to do something nice for the team."

Janet exchanged a look with Marcus from logistics.

"That's… sweet," Marcus said carefully. "But uh. We're good."

Ivy's smile flickered. "Oh. Well, I can just leave these here for anyone who—"

"Luna Mira already took care of it."

The words hit like a slap.

Ivy's hands tightened on the tray. "What?"

Janet nodded toward the break room. "She came by at six this morning. Brought breakfast from that French bakery downtown. The one with the good croissants. Full spread—pastries, fresh fruit, even those little smoked salmon sandwiches everyone fights over."

"Paid for the whole building," Marcus added, not even trying to hide his grin. "Didn't make a speech about it either. Just dropped off the food, said 'thank you for your hard work,' and left."

Janet picked up her coffee—not the one Ivy had brought, Ivy noticed with a sting. It was from the French place. Gold foil cup. Expensive.

"She even remembered I don't do dairy," Janet said, taking a satisfied sip. "Almond milk latte. Perfect temperature."

The lobby filled with soft laughter.

Ivy stood frozen, her cheap coffee tray suddenly weighing a thousand pounds.

No one took a cup.

No one thanked her.

They just… went back to their work, sipping their gold-foil lattes, leaving her standing there like a party guest who had shown up to the wrong address.

Ivy's cheeks burned beneath her perfect makeup. Her nails had left crescent-moon cuts in her palms.

Across town, Mira sat at her desk, the light cutting pale lines across a battlefield of papers.

Spread before her were financial statements. Mating contracts. Marriage agreements. Every legal and ritual document she and Adrian had signed over the past three years. She had been reviewing them since she returned, and the more she read, the colder her blood ran.

Foolish.

She had been so foolish.

When Adrian had come into her life—gentle, patient, steady—she had been drowning. Fresh out of captivity. Newly orphaned. And he had held her together when she thought she would shatter.

So when he placed those documents in front of her, she hadn't hesitated.

She had signed her name like it was a love letter.

Now she saw it for what it really was.

A cage.

The blood vow locked her wolf to his. She couldn't reject him without tearing herself apart from the inside. And the contracts… the contracts were worse. If she forced a divorce, Adrian had legal grounds to claim controlling interest in Vale Industries.

Which had started as Sterling Industries.

Her father's empire. Built from nothing, brick by brick, deal by deal.

Her mother's legacy. Guarded for decades, poured into Mira's inheritance like wine into a wedding cup.

And Mira had handed it over with a smile and a kiss, trusting that love would protect what law had failed to safeguard.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

But not irredeemable.

Her phone buzzed.

Elena (Counselor at Law): Found something. Call me.

Mira's finger hit the call button before the second buzz finished.

"Mira." Elena's voice was sharp, efficient, and laced with something Mira hadn't heard in weeks: hope. "I've been digging through every loophole, every precedent, every dusty old ritual text I could find. And I think I've got it."

"Tell me."

"The blood vow isn't unbreakable. It just needs a higher authority to sever it. Someone whose power supersedes both your Alpha's and yours."

Mira's breath caught. "The Alpha King."

"Alpha Evren, yes. Last of the pure Lycans. His bloodline predates modern pack law. If anyone can nullify the vow and dismantle those contracts without triggering the forfeiture clauses, it's him."

Mira's hand trembled around the phone.

The Alpha King was not a man one simply requested an audience with. But Mira had made up her mind.

"Prepare me for the flight," she smiled. "I'll go meet the King."